Tuesday the 28th, six days past due, I went to what was now my weekly pre-natal appointment, hoping that the membrane strip my Midwife just finished would be the thing to get it all started.
I dreamed of walking out of that Women's center with my water breaking, only to rush over to the Hospital, labor for an hour, and voila... a baby!
Two membrane strips on the same day and still.
not.
one.
sign.
I like the idea of God's timing. So inducement was never an option that I even considered. But being pregnant for 2 years, I needed this baby out of me. After wrestling with the thought of being induced, I decided to go ahead with it.
We got it scheduled and it was set.
Heading to the Hospital early the next morning I felt a lot of anxiety. This was the first time I was to deliver in a Hospital and it made me nervous. I'm not a huge fan of monitors and IV's, or annoying blood pressure arm bands. Also, I hated knowing that while being induced they were going to pump some strange substance into my body. That was probably my least favorite thought. Pitocin is not a natural thing, and that scared me the most.
Mark and I settled into our room and made ourselves as comfortable as we could, knowing full well we had a long day ahead of us.
The Nurse came in hooking me up to an IV and some monitors. Feeling some strong contractions, I was surprised at how fast the pitocin worked! About 25 minutes later the Nurse came back in, only for me to find out she had not even administered it yet.
That right there was an incredible tender mercy.
My body was going into labor that morning all by itself, and that brought the peace to my mind that I so desperately was searching for.
This Hospital experience was entirely different than my first birth. It was uneventful. A lot of waiting. Mark and I sat watching some television, I bounced on the birthing ball and we just talked and waited for things to happen. Another tender mercy was the amount of pitocin that was put into my body. The Nurse told us that with most women, every hour they turn it up 2 levels usually until 30. My level stayed at a 3. They call it a "whiff of pit" and I was so relieved that that was all it took.
Contractions started to get painful around the 1:00 hour. They were so deep and so intense. The pitocin makes everything a little bit more rough, and I was definitely feeling it! Things were a bit easier to manage this time around. I knew what to expect and how I was able to cope through contractions best.
Dejavu all over again, I hopped into the jetted tub they had in the room across from mine, but I wasn't in there long. I knew from Alivia's birth that the tub was more of a deterrent than anything. But it makes for a nice break from all the pressure my body feels.
I love labor.
As painful as it is, I love the empowerment it gives. I feel strong, beautiful, and a certain oneness with Heaven. I also love the silent connection between Mark and I. Relying on his strength and encouragement to get me through the worst of it.
It is absolutely breathtaking.
I could feel it was time for my baby boy to be born. Finding a position that was comfortable was very difficult in that Hospital room. I finally climbed up on the bed putting my feet up on a bar, having Mark sitting behind me.
Pushing was hard. My Midwife gave me a numbing solution and it seemed only to take away the natural push feeling that my body is supposed to give.
This baby boy was so unmotivated and very content where he was at, but after about 8 hours of labor...
Hanson Mark Cochran was born 3:06pm in the afternoon.
7.15 lbs. 20 inches long.
Hanson is named after his Granddad Mark, his great-great-great-Granddad Hanson, and of course his Daddy.
I'll be very honest in saying how hesitant I was finding out we were to have a little boy. I'm the oldest in my family and my Brother comes after me. We're 18 months a part and as of the last 2 years there's been a huge strain on our relationship.
Having Alivia and then Hanson, being a year a part, I felt it identical to my brother and I, and I was scared things would repeat. Totally irrational, but nonetheless it was a fear.
Holding Hanson for the first time was oh so sweet. All my worries and fears vanished, like they usually do when you hold your newborn.
Another piece of my heart was on the outside.
The love I have for my son is nothing more or nothing less than for what I feel for my daughter, but it is a completely different kind. I've struggled to explain it but I just can't put it into words.
Hanson is the most tender little boy. I knew from the minute he was put into my arms what kind of balance he'd bring to our home.
I read a phrase today that I fell in love with.
"Mom Strong"
Raising two very unique, very determined children has been (and continues to be) a very large learning curve. Obviously I could not do any of it without God and my husband Mark, but I have felt like super-mom on more than one occasion and the things I have been able to accomplish surprise me. I can do hard things.
Hanson is a reminder of how proud I am of myself and how mom strong I really am.
